


Long Drive Home

by TheIneffableLily



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Crowley's Bentley (Good Omens), M/M, Teasing, Tickling, no i don't have an explanation for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:07:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21548827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIneffableLily/pseuds/TheIneffableLily
Summary: Aziraphale hates Crowley's driving, so he strikes a deal to make sure he obeys the speed limit.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 96
Collections: Good Omens Kink Meme





	Long Drive Home

It was Crowley's opinion that headrests in cars were an abomination, in a “fire should rain down from heaven in righteous cleansing of this abhorrence” kind of way. Any other day, he would rather not sully his car with such a ridiculous add-on, but sometimes one must favor practicality over aesthetics. A long trip such as this called for sturdy headrests, which made the drive much more entertaining.

That was Aziraphale's doing, to be perfectly clear. Crowley could have done the trip from Tadfield to London in less than an hour if he disregarded the speed limit, which he always did. However, the angel had stubbornly refused to enter the car for the trip back from Anathema's wedding unless he was promised strict obedience to road regulations by his demonic driver. Crowley had grumbled and complained. He had only run over a human once and said human had looked very much alive in her wedding dress. Dragging the Bentley through poorly kept countryside roads below the speed limit and with nothing to do but bicker over safe driving with a cranky angel was the boring side of domesticity that Crowley hadn't agreed to when he had entered this so-called “romantic relationship”.

Instead of fighting him, however, Aziraphale had gone quiet for a moment. Crowley feared this was going to be one of those “silent treatments” that he had observed in other ordinary relationships, but soon the angel made him a proposition: he'd keep Crowley entertained if he promised to drive more carefully. Hence, the headrests, which were truly the ugliest things Crowley had even laid eyes on, but that were currently keeping Aziraphale's bare feet in place as the angel squirmed on the backseat.

When the trip began, Crowley thought he would grow tired of this form of torture after the first couple of miles, but he'd been gently teasing the angel's soles for forty minutes and the quiet giggles were as delightful as when they had left Tadfield. Gagging him had been a little cruel on Crowley's part, he admitted that much, but Aziraphale wouldn't stop reprimanding him.

“The rohohoad! Crowley, watch the road! You prom- _hee_ \- you promised!” he'd squealed as Crowley ran the tip of his index finger from his toe to his heel, then back up again.

Considering how sensitive angels' bodies were – Aziraphale often kicked and squirmed when Crowley kissed his neck and belly -, it was truly impressive that the angel could still backseat-drive. Crowley had been promised a quiet drive, though, with not a single complaint from his reluctant passenger. When Aziraphale tried to tell him to keep his eyes on the road _again_ , even though he was just glancing away for a second, he'd let go of the wheel altogether to shove the tartan socks into the angel's mouth. With his hands tied behind his back, Aziraphale could do nothing but glare.

“Oh, cheer up, angel,” Crowley said, his back to the wheel. “My car won't crash. It wouldn't dare, _isn't that right_?” he asked the Bentley, which then gave him the slightest tremor.

Aziraphale mumbled a protest and Crowley relented.

“Fine, fine. I did promise. You're right.”

He returned to his seat, one hand at the wheel, but the other already fumbling for his lover's helpless feet. This time, his fingers were rougher, vindictive, making the angel cackle for a good ten minutes before letting go. In the rearview mirror, Aziraphale shook his head, flushed and breathless.

“No more, angel? But we're having such fun together.”

Aziraphale panted. Crowley gave him a moment, watching his face for any sign of discomfort. Not that Aziraphale needed protection; he was powerful enough to get out of this situation with a snap of his fingers. Still, one should always be careful, so he looked back.

“You alright there, angel?”

Immediately, Aziraphale gave him an angry grunt and nodded towards the road.

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Honestly, angel, what a fuss you're making about this driving thing. It's past midnight and there isn't another car for miles.”

More angry grunts that sounded something like “you promised!”, though all Crowley could hear was “I know best, even though I've never driven a car my entire life!” Crowley could have argued; instead, he gave him a mean smile.

“Very well, angel. A promise is a promise. Here, I'll keep my eyes on the road and both hands on the wheel. Is this what you want?” he asked, sweet and gentle. On the rearview mirror, Aziraphale looked suspicious. “I'll even drive slower... there, 20 miles an hour. No point in risking discorporation. Are you happy?”

Crowley almost felt guilty when Aziraphale's suspicious eyes turned _thankful_. He truly hated his frantic driving and was glad the demon was at least trying to keep his promise. Poor naive sod.

“Yes, it will take us a little longer. Or a lot longer. But don't worry. I'll keep you entertained.”

Crowley snapped his fingers.

Aziraphale sat up in alert for a moment, but he couldn't see the feathers from the backseat. Five of them, though Crowley wasn't completely heartless and started by using only two at the same time: a light plume to tease his arches and a sharp quill that he snaked slowly between his toes.

Aziraphale threw his head back and laughed uncontrollably, feet twitching madly to try and escape the horrible torture. The sound was so delicious that Crowley even turned off the radio to better hear the screaming. He'd give the angel a break in a few minutes; the last thing Crowley wanted was to exhaust him so early in the trip. They still had a long way to go.

“Don't worry, angel,” he said, loud enough to be heard. “I'm sure I'll get bored of your feet quickly. Then, I'll have to find other places to tickle.”

In between bouts of laughter, he heard Aziraphale gasp. His feet might be ticklish, but they were far from being the most sensitive spot on his body.

“Maybe your belly will be next,” Crowley mused, making the angel shake his head in desperation again. “Or under your arms. Or perhaps we should tease you between the legs again. You had so much fun when I did that last time, didn't you? Oh well, it doesn't matter.” Crowley sat back and enjoyed the sight of the empty road. “At this speed, it will be another three hours until we reach London. We have time.”


End file.
